Author: Jordan D Robinson

I am infinitely complex, but pretty laid back. I love DMB & I'm the Executive Assistant for numerous visionary leaders. I've been paid to write, and to take pictures, but in both cases I decided it was worth not getting paid to do what I want.

A Week On the West Side

Show season is upon us. In the business of creative communications it means that my boss (the CEO) has a lot for me to do. Unfortunately that means my chances to post are much less frequent, but on the upside the travel makes for some interesting stories and adventures.

So I spent a week on the west side of Washington state. Mostly in Bellevue where our show was and then with a bit of touring. The show was a typical mix of crazy circumstances and long hours that make up nearly every live production. Though our sleep suffered, everything came together in the end and the client and audience were both pleased and impressed. When everything was said and done, I was running off about twelve hours of sleep over four days, one of which involved a heavy night of drinking and dance. Yes, dance.

So it was that we had a later call-time the next day (which my boss eventually sabotaged for me… more on that later) and found ourselves bar-hopping in downtown Bellevue. Among our stops was a Karaoke bar called Stone, in which I encountered a strange, tall man standing before me and crossing his arms. For a moment I thought I might have to fight somebody, but then I realized this was my High School best friend’s little brother. I had literally known him since he was eight. Now, he was huge and apparently helped run this bar. Unfortunately we decided to leave before I could ask for any specials, but I said my farewells and gave my regards to his brother. It was a pleasant surprise for sure.

Immediately before my move to Orlando years ago, I lived in the area of Seattle know as “Capital Hill”. It has for a long time been called the “gay” area of Seattle as it is a very liberal and homosexual-friendly neighborhood. Over the last few years, as our culture has evolved to accept more and label less, it has become less about “gay” and more about anyone. It’s the place where you can simply be yourself and be accepted regardless of where you fall on the sexual spectrum. That’s not to say that the rest of the city isn’t of that mindset anyway, but I would wager to say that Capital Hill is still one of the most open-minded places in the city.

One of my drinks at Q after many others that night…

When the bar-hopping eventually got boring and the night threatened to come to a close, it was decided we would take the party into Seattle by taxi. And it came to pass that we found our way to a nightclub called Q. I’m not much of a dancer. Years ago I would go with my ex and her friends on the weekends… but you don’t have to be impressive when you’re taken (that said.. I think I did okay.) I’m also not generally a huge fan of House / EDM music. However, on this night, years after I moved away, I was back in my old hood and many drinks / shots past sober. So we danced, and I danced, and had a really really really good time. It was a good group because we were all just doing our thing (goofy or otherwise) and it made it easy to cut loose. I looked terrible. I had worn my suit from earlier that day and since taken off my button down to reveal a grey tee shirt that showed every ounce of sweat on me. Fortunately, I wasn’t trying to impress anyone and that in itself made the night. I was in that perfect spot of intoxication that allowed me to let the music fill me. I felt the bass in my chest and tones in my brain so that I simply moved with it… and let it move me.

The night ended fun and happy with me eventually escorting my sleepy boss back into the hotel before we retired for the night. Call time wasn’t until two the next afternoon, but he insisted I be ready to go by 10 AM. That gave me less than six hours of sleep to shake the night off. It wasn’t enough. Though I sobered up nicely, when I rose around nine in the morning, I had a near-deafening ringing in my ears that faded throughout the day but never completely went away. The kicker was that my boss didn’t get in touch with me until shortly after one in the afternoon. However, given the choice I would do it again in a heartbeat. Sometimes you just have to dance.

The following days were a lot less party, a lot less sleep and a lot more work. But when it was all said and done, the show was well received and our clients were happy. The day of strike most of the crew flew back, and those of us that remained went out for a much mellower and still yummy night of dinner and drinks. That night, finally, I got to pass out for a good eight to ten hours.

The mountains I miss.

With the show over and the crew having departed I had the next 48 hours to myself. I used the time to pick up my rental car and tour western Washington. I refer to it as “ghosting”; visiting the sites of your past life(s) to remember and gain perspective on where you are now. The power of place is important, and can reinforce memories that have long since faded. I visited a hardware store where I worked retail for many years from cashier to various sales positions. While there I messaged with a longtime friend of mine who, back then, had been a young, sassy girl I met at the hot dog stand out front. She’s one of the few people who made it through some really terrible versions of me and found me worth keeping in touch with. When I returned to Seattle after the breakup, she made a point to come and visit me and did her best to bring me back from a pretty dark place.

Then it was on to Burgermaster which is an old school drive-in that (obviously) makes amazing burgers. That place has existed longer than I have and makes the same burger today I ate when I was in high school. I traveled north to Juanita, where I had lived with my father after having been homeless with him for many months. This place in particular has a lot of emotions attached to it.. it was the site of my first kiss and that of my eventual depression that lead to my near(ish) death (a long, wierd story in itself.)

Then a block away where I had lived with my mother before and after my time in Japan. The preceded the time I spent as a furniture hauler traveling across the country as the co-driver of an 18-speed semi-truck. Then I traveled north, the Snohomish. The same driver of that Semi-truck had asked me to be a nanny to his then son-in-law. By now I had been with my ex, and I put a major strain on our relationship with my lack of real income and uncertainty about wanting to be with her. We eventually recovered, but not before I had put her through a lot of unnecessary hardship (and a crap-ton of shitty Jack in the Box meals.) One great memory from Snohomish was the view of the mountains from the valley. I had to show the people back in Florida what they were missing. On that same note I needed to get closer, so I traveled east through Monroe and the fairgrounds where I had first seen my ex, on to Sultan where I got a great photo of the mountains that fed a river whose bridge I stood upon.

There is no way to convey the awesomeness in picture or prose…

Then evening came and I got in touch with my father. He wasn’t up to a lot of activity due to a back injury, so I resolved that this night would be my mizithra night! I was passing through Lynnwood on my way back anyway, so I stopped at the Old Spaghetti Factory and had the bartender whip up a Bailey’s Irish Creme shake to go with my Mizithra cheese spaghetti. It was wonderful. Full and satisfied I then traveled south for about an hour to my father’s home in Lakeland. He was ready to turn in for the night, so I caught up on my shows using his fancy cable service and promptly passed out. The following day was spent simply catching up with my father. We watched some shows together, talked and he made the best wings on earth for me despite his back still bothering him (thanks Aleve!) After dinner it was time for me to catch my red-eye back to Orlando and end my all-too-short mini-vacation from show season. Though I planned to either work or blog on the flights, I found that I was indeed quite tired, and ended up resolving to sleep as I had both plans and work the following day.

And it came to pass that I returned to Orlando and resumed this life as it is. I don’t know if I feel any different, but I remember wandering around Bellevue during a little time off and thinking that I felt better. Maybe it was being back where I grew up, maybe is was the dance, maybe it was remembering all the versions of me that have come and gone. But wether it has a lasting effect or not has yet to be seen. I feel something. Like a phantom tapping me on the shoulder. In the meantime it’s show season, and less than a week until the trek to Georgia. I’ll do my best to write before then.

Into A City Called Bellevue

Early Tuesday, Somewhere Over New Mexico…

A major perk of my current profession is a fair amount of travel I get to do during show season. Probably the most exciting of said travel are the trips to Seattle that happen twice a year. Last time I had a whole adventure lined up – reconnecting with high school friends and seeing my father for the first time in a couple of years. This time it’s only been about half a year, there are no plans post-work other than a rendezvous with my father and eating entirely too many of those wings he makes. Some things have to change and though we can’t really go back to the homes we remember again, sometimes the small consistent things that endure through time can make all the difference.

The brief stop in New Mexico.

So what to do? I’ve got a bit more free time with the team this round as well as some different and arguably more fun folks along on said team. I’m also better integrated with the crew having worked with them a more over the last few months, which makes it easier to spend some off-time with them. As an added bonus, instead of the heart of Seattle like last time, this show is across the lake in Bellevue, WA (it honestly could more or less be considered a very large “suburb” of Seattle.)

I think I’ve mentioned it before, but what’s special about Bellevue is that I was born and (mostly) grew up there. Though we did spend a fair amount of time moving around when I was younger, I was adamant about staying with my class from sixth grade onward, so even during the years of homelessness and living in towns that were an hour away, we did what we had to in order to get me to school in Bellevue every day. In this manner I was able to hold on to some form of stability when there was otherwise very little.

So to be directly in my old stomping grounds will be fun, we’re very close to the city center mall named Bellevue Square (I visited with my high school friends last round) which is surrounded by an abundance of things to do. The shows / work wrap up on Saturday Morning, and then I’m effectively off after we finish striking the production, get everything packed and make sure everyone else has made their flights. I’ll likely pick up a rental car and spend that evening through Monday night doing my thing before I catch a red-eye at 11:59 PM, putting me back in Orlando shortly after 10:00 AM on Tuesday.

I have a minor itch to drive into the mountains and hike some. Florida weather is great and the beaches and oceans have a charm of their own (especially in terms of sunsets!) but the land is flat. No mountains, very few hills, just… flat. You’ve probably gathered by now I like elevation, and views. In Washington State I can combine that with nature for some pretty amazing scenery even it the weather is the typical grey sky. I spent quite a bit of time hiking, camping and climbing in the mountains of Washington as a young man. Perhaps I’ll find a companion to head up there with, or maybe I’ll make it a meditative solo journey. Granted this is all very stupid of me with my ankle still a bit out of whack (runner problems) but nothing I can’t handle despite the fact it would probably increase recovery time.

It will be mine!

Another goal this round is to make it back to the Old Spaghetti Factory. Though it is a nationwide chain, the closest one to Florida is still nearly a thousand miles away. When I lived on the west side of Washington State (especially in the early years of my ex and my relationship) I would frequent there a lot and partake in their amazing spaghetti smothered in browned butter and Mizithra cheese. As a rabid cheese lover, this is a fantastic treat for a really reasonable price. Though I have visited and been back since, it’s a special, nostalgic event especially because I haven’t been back to this specific location in over a decade (I went with my father a couple years back, but at a different location.)

But first I’ll have to make it through this show. The hallmarks of shows like this are early call times and long hours. I’m still tired from the past few days. Sunday I went in to work in order to prepare an important presentation (worth roughly $150k this year) for my CEO to present on Monday. With all the changes and updates it became a monster seventy-four slide multimedia PowerPoint presentation that kept me working straight through from Sunday afternoon into the early morning hours of Monday. With our presentation happening Monday morning, I had time for a ninety-minute nap before I met my boss at headquarters to print all the materials a travel to meet our clients.

The presentation went great, and we’re optimistic about the outcome, but it was back to work from there with meetings and preparation for today’s travel. I left the office around six in the evening and had time to shop for various items (new shoes, cologne, cat supplies, etc.) before heading home to do laundry, pack, shower and take another nap for about three hours before getting up at 3:00 AM to catch our early morning flight. I was able to catch about two hours of sleep on the first leg of our flight putting me at a grand total of around six and a half hours of sleep since Sunday.

So, needless to say I’m still very tired. Tonight is a relatively laid-back schedule with a dinner and pre-production meeting before an early call time to set up our production tomorrow. If I can manage a decent amount of sleep tonight, I should be able to bounce back relatively well (praise coffee!) and keep myself in good condition for the rest of the show. If not, I’ll manage as I always have in these situations, I just might need a bit more time to sleep in on Sunday.

Look at my package!

Yes, I mean my package. The awesome piece of manhood that’s been chilling between my legs since before I was even born. Look at it, and if you like, tell me it’s great, fantastic, amazing.

So where the fuck did this come from eh? I was self-analyzing earlier and thinking about how I look at people, especially women. I’m big on eye contact, I take a measure of somebody’s confidence and a bit of their soul (though admittedly I catch myself looking away when they sustain eye contact sometimes… It’s instinctive, I don’t like it, I’m working on it…) The eyes only last a moment on most stranger though, and after a quick take of their face, I immediately do was the majority of men (and a fair amount of women) do: go straight to the boobs or the butt.

Ellen understands.

I’ve covered this before in that I’m not really particularly a boobs or butt guy, I sort’ve take the whole.. err.. package into consideration. But what I noticed is that while I am very conscious of being respectful to women, I’m still actively checking them out on a sexual level. Granted when it’s a stranger passing by, there isn’t much opportunity to look much deeper and I’m certainly a physical / sexual person, but it still made me think about wether or not it was “disrespectful.”

Let’s be clear that I do not cat-call, make any sort of serious / misogynistic comments (nor do I think them…) or even make it obvious that I’m checking anything except their eyes out. I’m not sure if I’m comfortable labeling myself a “feminist” (because the definition seems to change depending on who you ask…) but I’m sure you’ve gathered by now that I think women are pretty much the best thing ever and are in every way equal (or better…) than men. But the fact that I’m looking or noticing on a physical/ somewhat sexual level was enough to make me think about it. Very rarely (if ever) am I actually even considering/envisioning any sort of sex act with them, it’s more like a matter of admiring and moving on. I suspect a lot of people do it, but I don’t think a lot of them think about it.

I do the same thing to men, but it’s a totally different category. With them it’s a matter of comparisons. What do I like about them better than on myself. Sometimes I get ideas for haircuts, facial hair, or sometimes it helps motivate me to get my ass in the gym. It’s not a direct competition, but I have to try and make sure I stack up in the crowd right? It’s all a part of my dissection process. I do it to everyone, even if I only see them for a few moments.

I came to the conclusion that what I notice and how is okay as long as it’s not making them uncomfortable and I’m not being overbearing or obnoxious about it. But then I thought about it further: “If they don’t know I’m doing it, I wonder how many people do it to me…?” It turns out I was really, really okay with that. In fact, I wish I knew how often and how I stacked up. I realize, of course that a lot of it would probably be nasty… but by now you probably know that I can handle that. So I decided that I hope I’m being checked out. I’m okay with strangers looking at me sexually and thinking about me in that manner. Hell, I’m even okay with them fantasizing, it’s flattering and it’s not hurting me.

Now, let’s be clear that this is a touchy subject and I am not encouraging anyone to objectify anyone else. I might be cool being an object, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for everyone else. Part of the point of this writing was to question whether or not I was, in fact, objectifying women with my habit of checking them out sexually. But I decided that because I already know I don’t see women as objects and I in no way act in a manner that makes them feel objectified, I’m probably safe. But with that said… look at my package if you want to, I hope you see something that impresses you. I’ve said before that I’m not huge, but I’m not small either, and even soft, god knows the folks at the gym see something they may or may not want to see when I’m on the crunch ball, incline, or bench pressing. (Lets not even get into my running shorts…) It can’t be helped really.

Let me clarify further, that this business about what somebody is wearing making somebody do something is garbage. Sure,

Like photoshop for your brain…

part of the point of this particular blog is the habits and thoughts that come naturally, but the difference between thoughts and actions is also the point. If you can’t control your actions when you know better, then you’re worse then any animal out there (because they generally don’t.)

So go on, look at it. (No, I’m not posting it here you pervs.) If you see me on the street and want to think of me in all sorts of sexy, fantastic and crazy ways, I’m cool with that. Fantasy me is actually your private matter and frankly none of my business. I’m not saying I won’t have a problem if you try to make it my business, but otherwise get down with your/my bad self inside that sick little head of yours. But do me a favor and add some really killer abs too (I love my food a bit too much in real life.)

The sharpening of the tool…

“He had to be bereft of friends, of relatives, of teachers and knowledge and the Universe and everything that could help him. He had to be reduced to nothing—or rather, to himself only. And then he had to act—to act purely out of himself, out of his own inner being. In that state of complete disinterest, everything else having failed him, he had no choice but to be himself, to choose and to act.”

(*Regularly scheduled programming will resume next post.)

Forward Motion

I wasn’t sure what I was going to write about today, I have a ton of ideas in my head but none of them are totally fleshed-out yet (that’s mostly “no pun intended”…) I do have a concept in mind of explain how I tend to bond with people sexually (I know, y’all need a sex post soon…) but I want to think about that a bit more before I broadcast. So instead I think I’ll give you a couple of “small” things that may or may not get bigger. The lack of cohesion might not appeal to you all, but it’s my blog, so you get to deal. 🙂

Dream Girl:

The real one is out there… somewhere.

I didn’t dream last night that I can remember, I got just under six hours of sleep which (I fairly recently learned) is consistently dreamless as far as I can tell. I would imagine it has to do with when I wake up in regards to my sleep cycles, but regardless I tend to remember my dreams a lot more consistently at the seven and a half to eight hour mark. Monday night I did indeed dream, but it was a sleep-deprived dream at only four and a half hours. Normally when I dream, it’s lucid. I’m aware I’m dreaming and reacting with that knowledge. But this was one of the very rare ones; ultra detailed, specific and realistic. I didn’t know I was dreaming. Obviously the typical “dream fog” about how I had gotten there was in effect as I didn’t question it, but it got me regardless. In this dream I was having a conversation with a girl I don’t really know (as in I know of her, and we’ve talked online and what-not, but have never met her in person…) and we talking about “us” and confirming that we should be together. It was a touching and kind of adorable situation that I’m not 100% comfortable describing because it was a but mushy.

What’s important about this though is that I had absolutely no reservations about this girl. “It” was there and I was very, very ready to dedicate myself to her. It reminded me of what it can feel like, what it should feel like. It’s been a good fourteen years now since it felt like that, exactly right, and my subconscious still remembers it enough to recreate it. Maybe that’s what fooled me, how easily we can be manipulated by the heart. I woke up confused, disoriented and trying to figure out how I got to my bedroom after I had been spending time with her (sorry, no sex, this was a gushy dream, not a sexy one…) For the first time in a long time, after a few seconds when I finally realized it was a dream, I was actually a little sad. I thought about sending the girl a note telling her about this, but I don’t know her, at best I just know my idea of her based on limited discussion and social media. Unfortunately, telling her something like this would likely just creep her out, and I couldn’t blame her for that. She made an excellent dream girl regardless.

Unpause:

No.

Every so often routine sets in and things just sort of freeze for a while. While I understand it as a natural necessity of life and try to use it to my advantage, the truth is I find it very, very boring. Me bored is bad. Even though I have tons of things (like this…) to fill my days with, if I don’t feel like my life is in motion and things aren’t developing and growing around me, I tend to get very resigned and more likely to start reaching at things I probably shouldn’t. Relaxing is a GREAT thing, and routine is beneficial when populated with good habits, but boredom with the state of your life is poison and needs to be fixed as soon as possible.

I’ve been in said routine for a while now. Much of it was intentional as I had a bit to reconcile from the previous cycle to this one (probably not quite done with that… but more stable anyway.) However, things are in motion again. Spring is almost (literally) here and the world around me is beginning to shuffle and put things in motion that it’s been whispering about for some time. In short, even if my life won’t dramatically change anytime soon, the state of my life and several factors around me have already begin to and will continue to. All these prospects are the opposite of boring, and anticipating the shake-up is admittedly exciting for me. It’s not that I crave chaos per-say, but I like renewal. Change often sucks when you lose things, but the upside to that is that eventually new things begin to take shape and the potential they represent is exciting.

Fitting DMB Lyric. 🙂

Is that vague / cryptic enough for you? Well for instance, I have things to look forward to. A week from now, I will once again be in Seattle for a week or so. While I don’t have the exciting plans I had last time, after the show ends on Saturday, I will again see family, again eat far too many of my father’s hot wings and very likely find a few ways to entertain myself (though in all honesty I’ll also just be happy to relax and take in the Northwest again.) Following that, show season is in full effect for Cybis until May, when “Dave Season” (Dave Matthews Band) begins with a concert in Atlanta on the thirtieth with some really great people.

So, in the absence of dream love, there may still be a few good reasons to peek outside of my cave. I’ve been a little recluse on purpose, but the universe will only allow that for so long. It is not my way to be idle and there are things to be done.

Generations

A young man I know recently posted this quote I’ve seen a few times:

“I am a millennial. Generation Y; born between the birth of AIDS and 9/11, give or take. They call us the global generation. We are known for our entitlement and narcissism. Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Others think it’s because social media allows us to post when we fart or have a sandwich for all the world to see. But it seems our one defining trait is a numbness to the world. An indifference to suffering.”

While this is technically untrue (Gen Y is defined as being born in the early 80s and the virus that causes AIDS in 1983), the fact that he would feel the need to post this in reference to he and his era made me think a little.

Being born in 1979, I’m technically a member of Generation X but I fall into the grey area on that is the area between the end of Gen X and the beginning of Gen Y (one ends and the other begins in the early 80s.) According to the internet (the authority on all things true…) Generation X is described as:

“People born between 1961 and 1981, are highly educated, active, balanced, happy and family oriented. The study dispels the materialistic, slacker, disenfranchised stereotype associated with youth in the 1970 and 80s. Unlike their parents who challenged leaders with an intent to replace them, Gen Xers are less likely to idolize leaders and are more inclined to work toward long-term institutional and systematic change through economic, media and consumer actions. Compared with previous generations, Generation X represents a more apparently heterogeneous generation, openly acknowledging and embracing social diversity in terms of such characteristics as race, class, religion, ethnicity, culture, language, gender identity, and sexual orientation.”

Oh John, you romantic slacker you…

Pretty good right? Well it would be, if it were entirely true. Let’s look at some of the pop culture that reflects that generation (X): Movies like The Breakfast Club, Say Anything, Empire Records and even Kevin Smith’s Clerks defined Gen X young adults growing up over two decades. What did they really say about us? All were essentially young adult characters who were more interested in philosophizing and falling in love than actually settling with a long-term career and family. Sure it’s fiction, but that still sounds a little more accurate when I recall my high school environment and the years after. It’s a generalization of course, and the majority of us have turned into functional, comfortable members of society on some level. But generally speaking generation X was whimsical growing up, and eventually they got really good at it. So good, in fact, that they brought the rebel, non-suit, out-of-box mentality to corporate America (and the White House…) and created some of the more innovative and successful companies ever, many of which specialized in consumer technology and quite literally paved the way for the very traits that defined the following generation.

But what’s important to remember here is that generation X had a pretty slow start. They started in the shadow of the post WWII baby boomers in an era where space travel was a magical, advanced reality from a distance, but beyond that their worlds were very small. They lived in communities and had long-developed routines from the generations that came before them. They rebelled against this by really not doing anything for a long time. They slacked off, and they dreamed of doing something different, and easier than what was always done. Only years later as they came into their prime and felt the desire to leave their mark on the world, did they focus their mental abilities on developing better ways to productively do less. That’s right kids, modern technology was developed and advanced by Generation X to make it easier to get by while being lazier. At work, at home, for entertainment, the Gen X folks created more ways to get things done without really doing anything. Naturally, the whole world adopted these revolutionary ideas, and the world that once was vast and localized became much, much smaller and connected. So the stage was set, for Generation Y.

“They call us the global generation.”

Well… it’s gotten a lot smaller…

Yes indeed, that’s more accurate than it’s ever been. With the world (excluding those at least directly walled off) now connected, any person, anywhere is literally a few button pushes away. With that comes information some people never ever dreamed existed as well as realities about the planet and the people that inhabit it that many could not imagine and would rather have not known. The world is small now and it’s innocence is lost. For anyone that is connected, the bliss of ignorance is essentially destroyed.

“We are known for our entitlement and narcissism.”

What they should really be known for, is being born to a world that nobody else ever has been. Do you think people were never entitled before you? Far more so. And narcissism has also existed since people discovered their reflection. For somebody to suggest that generation Y is any worse is just silly. One look at the class-based societal structure that dominated much of the world throughout the history of civilization will show you a great deal of very obvious entitlement and narcissism. The only difference Generation Y has shown, is that they accept it as a flaw, and don’t care to hide it. They are the first generation born with the ability to broadcast everything they are to the world, their perfections and flaws and celebrate it. In short, they give zero fucks about the labels anyone places on their humanity. Gen Xers started it by rebelling against what was always traditionally “proper” on a massive scale, and generation Y is simply taking it another step further. Humanity is, and always has been flawed. Generation Y is just not buying in to pretending it’s not. They are the most real generation we’ve yet encountered.

“Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Others think it’s because social media allows us to post when we fart or have a sandwich for all the world to see.”

Don’t worry humanity, a little visine should clear that right up!

Unfortunately, being real is not all fun and games. While Generation Y has produced some of the most brilliant and revolutionary minds possibly ever, the flip side is that they are rapidly dismantling the curtain that so much of humanity had pulled over themselves in the previous generations. When that curtain is pulled back and that light is cast, the reality of humanity, possibly even the majority of it, is ugly. With the world connected, there is nowhere to hide, so the ignorance, lies, brutality and utterly pointless evil of humanity is exposed over and over again, every day. Many ignore it by focusing on that “fart” or “sandwich” that was posted instead. Some recognize and passionately speak out against it. Some actually do something. But the reality that Generation Y has to face more than any generation before it is the constant reminder that humans generally suck, and there’s no simple way to fix it. No longer is it the good guys vs the bad guys like the Allies and Axis. Now it’s “our ideas vs your ideas, and we’re both wrong, but let’s see who is less wrong.” It’s no different than it ever was throughout history, but now it is seen and cannot be unseen. Now it stares Generation Y in the face.

“But it seems our one defining trait is a numbness to the world. An indifference to suffering.”

This is also nothing new. Before perhaps, a great deal of blissful ignorance took the place of numbness or indifference. But what really happened is that Generation X created the tools to remove the pretty wrapping, and Generation Y cut it away. What faces them was an ugly, festering wound that had always been there and they realized they (like all the generations before them) were causing it. It isn’t numbness or indifference to the suffering, it’s more like hopelessness. It’s more like “Oh jesus christ.. it’s everywhere.. it’s the whole world.. it’s ME.. how the hell can I possibly fix THIS!?” This realization is quite literally paralyzing. It forces people to just keep doing what they were doing, or following who they were following, because if they don’t find something to do in order to distract themselves or feel like they are helping, they risk falling into fear, despair and depression. It’s not the first time people have discovered humanity’s penchant for terrible things, but it’s the first time it’s been a forced global awareness. That, is what Generation Y has to face.

Like THAT guy. He knows what he’s doing.

So, how do we fix it? God? Though many still attend and have their faith, religion is no longer the blind fix-all it oncechampioned itself as, and the more progressive religions admit that outright. Our “leaders”? Well American politics is questionable at it’s absolute best because even a good person at the top has to listen to what represents “the majority”. We have to face that said majority is more often than not controlled by a majority of people that are part of the problem. At the same time though, we’re well past the point of no return in terms of society. Without outside intervention (ie: catastrophe or act of god) there is no way to “reset” the rules of the game. No, there is no clear way to fix it. Thankfully though, more and more people from Generation X and Generation Y (and even those before them) are trying. I think the best way any individual can do anything at this point is find the people who have learned the rules of the game, are doing what they believe are the right things the right way, and then follow them.

But first things first. The feelings that spawn the quote from the beginning of this article are the challenge that Generation Y must overcome. What the quote said is not the problem, where it came from is. What I mean is that nothing rings more true for Generation Y, the aware generation, than the need to face themselves. Before you can be a part of any solution, you have to be certain you’re not a part of the problem. It may sound cliche’ and zen-like, but when a huge amount of individuals learn to be all the things so much of humanity has not traditionally been: straightforward, peaceful and especially honest.. then the world will notice and just maybe the world will change. Maybe it is a little narcissistic, but you have to fix you first, end of story. Perhaps that will be the legacy passed on to the next generation.

The “Hook-Up Culture” Myth

I keep hearing the term “hook-up culture” and it being used in a derogatory manner. They say that it’s causing “the decline of meaningful relationships” and indeed if you look at some of the statistics compared to the days of yore it can be twisted to reflect such a message. But the fact of the matter is that it’s bullshit. In fact, the term “hook-up culture” is just a way to generalize a much broader concept: sexual self-reliance.

“I didn’t want to be dominated by anyone...” (Hell yes Emma!!)

“I didn’t want to be dominated by anyone…” (Damn straight Emma, you tell em’!)

The most common story comes from those crazy college kids these days that are just getting together and having wild drunken sex parties. But they act like this is something new. This is not new, it just keeps getting better. Looking beyond the filthy bullshit that is male entitled rape culture (I know it’s a bleak reality, but I’ve ranted about that already and that’s not the point here…) and what you have are individuals that aren’t afraid to be individuals. But to say that this is a college thing, or that it’s a new concept is ridiculous. I literally read an article yesterday about Emma Murano, a woman who is one-hundred and fifteen years old and do you know what she credits her longevity to? Raw eggs and being single since 1938. Do you think she’s been celibate since 1938? Hell no.

The truth is that “hooking up” has been happening forever and the current time frame isn’t even the first time it’s been given a name. In Roman times it was a common occurrence (especially among the higher classes.) Hundreds of years later in the 60s and 70s it was “free love”, but then many referred to it as a “counter-culture” made up of “dirty hippies”. That’s basically what happens now. Certain groups of narrow-minded people that fear the concept try to generalize and degrade it with labels. The same goes today with those trying to label and put a negative spin on “Hook-Up Culture”. You don’t have to look far to read about how this culture is “destroying” things like “traditional dating”, “modern romance”, “Love as we know it”, “Gay youth culture” and even an entire generation. I mean.. shit! Who knew the power of getting it on with somebody you probably don’t want to be with forever was so potent! Next time we got to war, instead of sending the troops over and dropping bombs, let’s just send some “Hook-Up Culture” ambassadors to their country to fuck the love right out of their whole generation! It’s a crisis!

…and sending THAT text when the mood strikes…

What has really happened is that with the power of the internet and support that was previously too hidden or distant for us to see, individuals have found that they don’t have to conform to outdated and gender-bias/misogynistic traditions or rules to run their romantic life. Instead, they feel more comfortable wanting what they want and the fear of god/society/etc no longer keeps many of them from acting on those desires. Now it’s okay to be a successful unmarried woman with a healthy sexual appetite (we have shows about this now!) Likewise you’re not a loser if as a man you don’t have or even want a wife or family. We’ve gotten to the point where we can talk about men hooking up with men, women hooking up with women, and gender-neutral people hooking up with both, or none, or whatever they prefer. “Hookup Culture” isn’t about hooking up at all really, it’s about people deciding they are going to sexually be what they want, fuck who they want (as long the partner is willing…) and not have to conform to meet expectations. There’s no more hooking up than there ever was before (trust me.. your parents had just as much sex, they were just afraid to talk about it.) We’re simply being more open, educated, intelligent and accepting of it all as a part of our lives. That scares a lot of the more traditionally conservative people to death, so they feel the need to slap a label on it and cry doomsday.

But you know what? Love is still happening. Marriage is still happening. Kids are still happening (granted Japan is in a bit of a population crisis… you might wanna make a few more babies over there…) If the birth rate goes down a little in the US or even the world, that’s okay for a while. We have a pretty serious global over-population issue as it is and a lot of quality human beings with a great deal of potential that need adopting.

Go ahead and try to tell me those children don’t have a beautiful family life. 🙂

Speaking of which, thanks to hook-up culture, we have a new breed of successful singles that don’t have to be married but want kids. Those folks along with the growing government acceptance of gay marriage (which is also simultaneously “destroying” most of the things Hook-up Culture is…. along with the “sanctity of marriage”) are giving a lot of those kids who need adopting really amazing homes and families. I’ve personally witnessed better parenting from some of these singles/couples than I’ve seen from a great deal of heterosexual parents that either accidentally reproduced or did so under pressure from their non-hook-up culture (when they didn’t even really want children.) Who’s going to be the better parent? The ones who feel forced to have kids they aren’t sure they want, or the ones that have to deliberately apply and invest in a very thorough process in order to raise children they actually really want? Which of those family situations is more likely to produce better-rounded contributors to our upcoming generations?

If “Hook-up Culture” is a real phenomenon and things are truly changing so drastically, then it’s for the better. Perhaps the traditional marriage rate is dropping, but if that’s true, then I would wager the majority of the marriages that aren’t happening would’ve been the unhappy ones. The truth about culture now is that it’s becoming the sexually and romantically liberated culture. People are learning that they can have sex, and it can just be sex. They can have love, with whoever they want. They understand that sex and love do not have to be mutually exclusive (but they still certainly can be, if they want it to be.) Most importantly they are realizing that there’s not a damn thing wrong with any of that.

Oh my god you’re right!! LOVE IS DYING!

Love and romance cannot simply be killed off because somebody got a boner for a girl he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with and she liked how his abs looked when he was shirtless, so they did their thing and got on with their lives. I like to think love is a bit stronger than that. I’m also pretty certain that both “Generation Y” and “Gay Youth” are doing better than before because of the shift towards acceptance of individual sexuality. (and honestly we still have a long way to go…) In the end, “Hook-Up Culture” is just a label that will be used and abused as propaganda (which is almost always false.) If there’s been a cultural shift, hooking up is a product of it, not the reason.

The Roar Of Silence

“You’re reaching.” she wrote. A gentle reminder that I was once again allowing my desperation to influence my actions. Eventually I cut myself off from her because I didn’t trust myself to not repeat that behavior. I didn’t want to burden her and embarrass myself further. She was actually much more irritated about it than I had expected and I may very well have damaged that connection permanently. Such is price I pay for indulging what I know is foolish behavior, when I allow the emotions I keep so well in check to bubble through the cracks and control me. That wouldn’t be the last time they would cause such damage.

Well okay, not *totally* alone. 🙂

So what happens? How does the one who some say seems so strong and often emotionless crack and screw up like that? As I’ve mentioned before, it’s because after so much time, desperation temporarily sets in and I start to really feel alone. I say often that I am good at being alone, that I like being alone. Everyone who knows me knows that I like my space, there are very few people I care to spend more than a day or two with, and much much fewer whom I can tolerate for more than a month. But even though I actually do have people I could call, they are not really my people, at least not yet.

Allow me to try and make some sense of this. I’ve spoken before of cycles and I know where I’m at in mine. Before I was isolated following a major change and the same has happened again. Those I was close to the during the previous cycle are essentially ghosts now (there are notable exceptions, but none are in the foreground due to circumstance) and though some who were previously in the background might be moving to the foreground, right now is a transition… a very, very quiet transition. I have no room to complain, my life is good, my job is good and I have some really great people in my life. But make no mistake that I am quite alone and sometimes, late at night or early in the morning when I’m starting or ending my day and there is nothing to distract me, I notice how very silent it is, and that silence is very, very loud.

So what did I do when this solitude began to set in and I wanted to reach out to everyone I could? Well, obviously I became intentionally introverted. For years I was one of those people at the center of the parties. I would arrange massive gatherings, bring people from all walks of life together and usually serve them ridiculous amounts of alcohol until crazy shit happened. It was great for a time, especially when many of those were my people. But eventually the novelty faded and I began to question the point. Most recently at the turn of the year I examined a similar event and realized that for what I put out, I wasn’t really getting much back any more. Unless I actively pursued these people, I wouldn’t see them, hear from them and if I reached out and they responded, they were doing me a favor. In fairness some probably don’t even realize that dynamic exists, but then, that’s the point. They don’t really consider it, they don’t really consider me. So, I basically said “Fuck that.” and withdrew. I made it a general rule that I would happily address those who addressed/invited me. If they did not, then we all have our priorities, and I simply wasn’t one. It sounds a little bitter, but it’s more a resignation that (especially for me) things change and nothing is permanent.

Not THAT silence… I need a marker…

Understanding the way of things doesn’t always make it easy though. My inner-voice tells me to simply be “patient” (wisdom springs from experience and patience after all…) but sometimes lately I like that word a little less every time it is whispered to me. It is restlessness that sets in after a very long time of enduring something. It will ebb and flow and fade, but sometimes it does get difficult, and that’s when I begin to reach. That’s when I get myself into trouble. But until the universe throws me another inevitable curve ball (it loves doing that…) I will remain withdrawn and selectively accept the company of those who seek it from me. I don’t owe the world anything more than I am willing to give and the universe will put me where it needs me anyway.

It’s a fight though… to not try and shatter the silence with something, anything. The last cycle I was put into a position in which I didn’t have a choice but accept somebody that I knew I probably shouldn’t have… and at the same time another far more important person was beginning to be alienated, eventually seemingly permanently (thus far anyway…) So I will try not to reach and I will focus on not repeating my mistakes in whatever form they present themselves in this time. I will wait and be patient until I can remember how to wake up and find my way out of the silence the right way. I will be stronger, I will endure and I will try not to lose all of the person I was when I was happier. Things change and nearly everything is temporary in this, so I will endeavor to control the one thing in this world that I can: me.

Rain

It’s Monday, but it’s mellow. When it rains like this; casually, lazily, with no purpose other than to renew the land, nourish the life and make the streets shiny, everything seems to slow down just a little in order to receive it. My hometown has more of these days than not (which explains the coffee obsession) so when it rains like this in Orlando I think it makes me a bit nostalgic. Orlando gets it’s share of rain, but it’s more of the soaking, torrential, relentless downpour for fifteen minutes. That has it’s place, and can be fun in the right circumstances, but today is a lazy rain, the kind you can walk in without worry of ruining your hair or damaging your iPhone.

As of now I’m sitting at my normal lunch spot watching the drops hit the glazed marble walkways as people walk down the streets with grossly oversized umbrellas. In Seattle you don’t usually bother with an umbrella, the rain is more like a dense mist, but here if you’re caught without an umbrella in a downpour, nothing can save you from being soaked. Those that walk without an umbrella today are fine, but they aren’t being as a Seattle native, they are simply unprepared. Ironically I meant to write a slightly ranty post today, but it rained and I am calm. If I’m not feeling it, I can’t write it. Instead I am here, just being a part of it, soaking it all in metaphorically and feeling peaceful.

It was so, so sexy though…

In essence the rain made today. I spent the first part of the day driving and hanging around exotic cars as a result of my boss’s convertible top being stuck down. This morning the rain had not yet come, but we knew it would, so I had to arrange for service. At the same time, we were filming a promo spot for the the local Mall at Millenia which required the use of a high-end vehicle. The plan was to use my boss’s Audi S5, but with it in service, I took it upon myself to convince the dealership to loan us one of theirs (I tried for the R8, but they weren’t feeling that brave.) So, I got to have some fun driving these and checking out some other exotics while coming through in a pinch for my boss. I call that win. So thanks to the rain, today is mellow, pleasant, relaxing and productive. But the day is only half done and there is more rain to come, so I’ll continue this tonight…

As the day went on the rain gradually increased, but never to the point of downpour. As I left my office this evening I was greeted by another nostalgic sight of the city buildings piercing the fog with a majestic glow. The unfortunate truth is that Orlando’s skyline leaves much to be desired compared to other grand old cities like Boston, New York or even a younger, smaller city like Seattle. Orlando is great, I like it here and I like a lot of things about it, but I feel like it’s more a very large, spread out town than a real city. Still, the few skyscrapers we have are relatively impressive and to see them bathed in glow of fog similar to Seattle is a treat in itself.

The evening was filled with productivity, but nothing exciting, nothing worth writing about. Except that I like the glow of puddles reflecting the lights of the city and the ripples on the surface as the raindrops penetrate them. During the day it’s reflective and meditative, at night I find it dramatic and thought-provoking. It feels like it’s foretelling things, like little whispers of what’s to come ride on each of those ripples in the darkness. If only we could listen closely enough, perhaps they would give away their secrets. But then, would we really want to know?

All the possible ripples…

I will admit my disappointment as the day came to a close and the rain let up. If there’s any time I love the storms here in Orlando, it’s later at night. Thunder and Lightning can happen whenever, I love it regardless. But especially late at night, lying bed (with or without somebody there…) the sound of a downpour outside is especially soothing. “White noise” some people call it. Maybe that’s a good term for positive noise. It’s probably got some technicality I could google, and I may actually be misusing the term in regards to the sound a storm makes, but for now it makes sense. Positive noise anyway, noise that soothes and distracts just enough to relax you and allow you to drift away to much-needed sleep. But unfortunately for now the weather has passed and the all too familiar clear sky will return. It’s gorgeous of course, I’m not complaining, the exact opposite consistency of that which I grew up with on the opposite side of the country. You always want what you can’t have.

There won’t be any more rain tonight.

Sorry guys, you might not get that blowjob, and here’s why:

I was talking to a friend of mine a while back and she was telling me about the first time she ever went down on a guy. It was a hook up that was, frankly, uncharacteristic of her as she had intentionally (and not for religious reasons) remained a virgin into her twenties. The unfortunate truth of this story though is that it serves to highlight some serious issues that result from boys being fucking idiots. So picture this: after so many years of behaving, a young girl decides that she is ready to take the next step in her sexual process. She’s not ready for intercourse, but she’s willed up the courage to try oral sex (which a lot of guys will take over sex itself on many occasions anyway!) Imagine that she’s nervous about her performance, wanting to do well and that she won’t somehow screw it up. Then imagine the he actually screws it up, but she has no idea because she’s never been in this situation before.

Well, how did he screw it up?

By being an ignorant, selfish fuck. To elaborate a bit, he decided that he didn’t want to lay down in the bed, sit or otherwise make any attempt to improve her comfort. No, he insisted he needed to be standing up, with her kneeling (on a tile floor.) He made ZERO attempt to make her more comfortable. Have you ever spent much time on your bare knees on a hard floor? If not, I suggest you try it and tell me if you think this is reasonable. Like many girls, she doesn’t have the slightest idea if she’s doing it right, but she’s doing the best she can based on what she’s heard and/or (probably not) seen (which is also typically inaccurate.) So there she is, already uncomfortable, trying to push this guy’s member as far into her mouth / throat as she can and trying not to gag, and what does he do? One of the things you should never do without expressed permission/consent (I only say this because I’ve met one or two ladies that LIKE this sort of treatment, but I digress…) He put his hand on the back of her head and forced her to go deeper. By this point I wouldn’t blame her for grabbing this guy’s balls and squeezing until he started crying, but she’s not the type for conflict, she wanted to be good for him, so she finished him despite his treatment. And you know what? At no point did he attempt to reciprocate (he should’ve before but more on that in a bit.) She never played with him after that, the whole thing put a sour note on hooking up and especially blow jobs which she no desire to do again (and who could blame her?!) Well done, asshole.

This is just an example of the broken mentality that ruins certain aspects of sexuality for some women. So let’s break down some of the bullshit you guys are pulling and therefore screwing things up for both her and the guys later on that (unlike you) give a shit. A lot of this can be translated to any sexual act, and I’m pretty sure it stands with guy on guy action as well.

Entitlement:

Let’s get this out of the way first… Somehow, at some point, the idea actually took hold that under certain (variable) circumstances, a girl “has to give you head.” I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous rules: “If you’ve had sex, she has to go down on you.” False. “Once you get a handjob, she has to give you a blowjob next time.” False! Or the worst (and I can’t make this shit up): “If you’re making out and you know she wants it, just pull it out and push her head down.” I mean, Seriously!? People actually think like this!? Not only is this wandering into rape world, but that girl isn’t going to want to go near yours (or probably anyone else’s penis) again. It is REALLY worth it to put her through an awkward situation in which she’s really not going to try AND destroy any chance you have of letting it happen again? I’m sure you don’t give a rat’s ass if she never goes down on another guy… but if you could get around your ignorant assumptions, and she actually enjoyed herself, not only might you find she’s really fantastic at oral sex, but that she might regularly offer to do so. There’s this odd concept called “respect” that makes people more likely to want to please you.

You’re not willing to give:

This one is simple. If you refuse to go down on her, how the hell are you going ask her to go down on you? I’m not saying she won’t in every case (some girls genuinely just don’t enjoy receiving oral sex… granted not the majority) but it’s generally pretty logical to think that if you’re going to ask her to go down on you, you be willing to give what you want to receive. Ideally, you’ll do so first based on the simple fact that (again, generally speaking) once you cum, you’re basically done. She, on the other hand can usually keep the mood well after she’s gotten off. An added bonus in this situation is that you might not even need to ask her to go down on you, you might just inspire her to do it on her own. Speaking of that…

You don’t ask:

All about context…

It’s absolutely magical what respectfully and tactfully asking what you want will get you. I’ve beaten the concept of communication to death in these sex-based posts, but it’s true in every case that being willing to ask for it will let them know it’s on your mind. If you’re already hooking up, they may think that you’re all about the sex itself and not give alternative activities another thought. You don’t get to expect anything in regards to sexual activity, but there’s no harm in asking respectfully. (Protip: If you have trouble asking outright, playfully suggest the 69 position, if she likes that idea then obviously she’s okay with going down on you in the right situation.) Be prepared though, if she doesn’t want to, you’re going to have to respect that. Over time maybe you can communicate enough to understand her aversion to oral sex, but you’ll never get there if you act like a douchebag when she tells you no. Be respectful, build trust and be patient. Sometimes it simply boils to inexperience and and performance anxiety, which will never improve if…

You’re not willing to teach:

This may come as a shock, but other than issues of Cosmo and random blogs like this one, there’s no manual for giving a guy head. Porn is a terrible example for a number of reasons and girlfriends are not always close enough to elaborate on the finer points of the techniques. Because of this, even ladies that are grown and experienced sexually can carry some level of anxiety when it comes to performing oral sex. So if you want to make this more likely to happen, and better yet, for her to enjoy it, you’re going to have to talk to her about it. If she’s nervous, make it fun, offer to show her your spots and how easy it is. You’d be amazed how few girls realize that a lot of the work can be done by multi-tasking with their hand(s). Most guys know how ridiculously easy it is to make us cum when you hit the right spot, all you have to do is make her feel similarly confident and the chances of her wanting to do it increase exponentially.

You make it uncomfortable:

This goes back to my initial story. There are a number of other asshole moves you can pull that turn a potential positive situation into a negative one. The thing you have to remember is that the “pleasure” of giving you a blowjob primarily comes from your partner feeling empowered in the process of doing so. If they know they are turning you on and (eventually) getting you off, it can very likely turn them on. However, if you ruin the fun by being disrespectful or making them uncomfortable, then you’ve pretty much destroyed the whole situation and relegated yourself to asshole land.

For example DO NOT:

Cum in her mouth without permission. This is a common assumption and one that can really piss off somebody who’s not expecting it. When in doubt, warn them!! Who cares if she swallows it or not? Sure, the orgasm will be better if she’s willing to keep going while you’re getting off, but I guarantee it’s not going to be better if abruptly stops, spits it all over you and is pissed. That’s an excellent way to be sure you’re not getting seconds anytime soon. (And if you get an especially spiteful woman there’s a lot of very gross/vicious ways she can punish you… )

-or-

Push / Force yourself into her (aka “Face-Fucking”) without permission. Look, unless you regularly shove large, long cylinders in your mouth, you’ve got no real concept of how difficult it might be for her to handle you. (Even if you do.. everyone is built a little different.) So in those situations, when she’s trying to handle you, don’t start shoving yourself in further and for the love of god do NOT push on the back of her head. That’s arguably one of the worst things you can possibly so, especially during orgasm. If you pull that on somebody I wouldn’t blame her for biting your punk ass.

Oh Bill…

Speaking of comfort, all of the above included, it’s a basic rule of the universe that if you want something to happen you make it as easy and comfortable as possible. This comes back to the silly concept of consideration for whomever is going to give you what it is you want. To that end, do everything you can to make them as comfortable as possible in the situation. So that means whatever position is easiest for them and if that position happens to involve hard surfaces, get her a fucking pillow. It’s often the little things (no pun intended.. I hope.. for your sake…) that can make or break a situation, especially one where you’re asking for a big favor. Because you know what will screw up the chances of a perfectly good, respectful, considerate guy getting a blowjob from a girl that decides she wants to play with him? Some asshole before him that was a selfish, ignorant, disrespectful douchebag and did all of the above. What pains me is how many of those creatures actually exist out there.

On a lighter note, the friend I spoke of in the beginning did indeed end up finding a good guy for a steady boyfriend, and eventually she felt comfortable enough with him to try going down on him. As you can imagine, things turned out much better for her and it’s become a regular and exciting part of their routine. So thank you, good guy, for treating her right and not letting another ignorant asshole damage her sexuality permanently. I salute you and the the many happy blowjobs that happen as a result of your doing it right.

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The Grey Area

Moderate. Libertine. Hedonist.